Won't You Be My Savior
by ocasille
Summary: "You should have met me in 1864, you would have liked me." AH


**AN: I was watching the scene were Damon was dying again and this idea popped into my head. I'm sure this plot has been done before, but I thought I'd give it a whirl anyways lol.**

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><p>This was hopeless.<p>

No matter how many times she tried Elena could never get that particular progression of notes right. She had the sudden urge to slam her fists down on the keys in frustration, but she quickly quelled that desire; it would be entirely unladylike to throw such a fit in front of company.

"Try again, Ms. Gilbert." Mrs. Trenton instructed flatly. You would think someone who had a 'remarkable gift for music' wouldn't have such a terribly monotone voice, but alas; it was not to be.

Just as she was making her way through Chopin with as much grace as she could muster her father appeared in the archway. He nodded towards Mrs. Trenton, whose lips were pursed into a thin line; she did not appreciate interruptions during her lessons, even by the man signing her cheque.

"Terribly sorry to intrude. Elena, I was hoping you would accompany me on a business matter."

She couldn't get up fast enough, the only reason she walked slowly over to her father was so as to not offend Mrs. Trenton.

"Certainly, may I inquire as to where?" Elena asked boldly.

Jonathan Gilbert gave his daughter a sharp look. "You may not. I only need someone to look after the horses while I am attending to matters. Matters which a young lady such as yourself need know nothing of."

Elena bit her tongue before she could ask why he could not just have a stable boy ride along. She was becoming much too cheeky as of late. Furthermore, who was she to complain of an early dismissal of her tortuous piano lessons; something that she hated but her father had insisted upon.

"My apologies, father. Shall we be on our way?"

He nodded stiffly and turned on his heel, and she knew she was not yet forgiven for her nosy query. She would just have to make it up to him.

Elena lifted up the hem of her dress with one hand and placed her other hand in that of their carriage driver. She always loved riding in the carriage, watching the scenery as it went by, and reveling in the feeling of slight superiority over those who had to walk to their destination.

She waved herself with her fan delicately, in an attempt to relieve the stifling heat. She wished that she could just lean out the side of the carriage and let the wind flow through her carefully coiffed locks, as she had witnessed young, carefree boys doing. How wonderful it must be to be a man and to not be confined by all the expectations that women are expected to uphold.

The carriage turned into a gated driveway that Elena recognized to be the Salvatore Estate. She had only seen the property from the road, and she felt excitement well up in the pit of her stomach at having the chance to see the infamous Salvatore mansion up close.

They came to a stop, mercifully, under the shade of a tree. Her father dismounted from the carriage quickly and walked away towards the house without a word of goodbye. He did not mention how long he would be, Elena only hoped it wouldn't be too long; it was wretchedly hot.

Once her father was out of sight, Joseph jumped down from his post and began walking away, also without a word. She wondered where he was going, but of course it was not her place to ask.

Following suit Elena also emerged from the carriage, her booted feet kicking up dirt as she walked to the front of the carriage. She stroked the mane of her favorite horse, Angel. She was just about to pull apple out of her bag when she heard a noise from behind her. Startled, she spun around.

A young man with unruly black hair and piercing blue eyes stood a few yards away, his arms crossed across his chest, surveying her silently. Elena shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and wondered how long he had been standing there.

"May I help you?" she asked, perhaps a little more coldly than the situation called for.

"My apologies, I have forgotten my manners. I am Damon Salvatore." he stepped closer to her and extended his hand.

"Elena Gilbert," she replied curtly. What would her father think if he saw her now; talking to a man alone.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Elena Gilbert. Tell me, what brings you to this insufferable prison?"

She was surprised to hear him refer to these beautiful grounds as such; she would love to live on such lush lands.

"I'm waiting for my father, he has business here." She wasn't sure why she was still entertaining this conversation. Maybe it had something to do with his captivating eyes.

He nodded his head in understanding. "Ahh, you must be Jonathan Gilbert's daughter. I've heard of you."

She bristled at his insinuation that he knew anything about her.

"I don't know why you would call such a resplendent place a prison. You should be grateful for your good fortune." she said, trying to wound, but he just grinned and asked,

"Would you like a tour?"

She looked around, wondering if they actually had a member of staff to do such things as conduct tours.

"I'm sure your staff has exponentially more important things to do than provide me with a tour."

He grinned wider. "Ahh, but I don't."

She gasped as she realized what he was asking.

"I most certainly will not go on a tour with you. It would be most inappropriate for us to be alone together." she replied, appalled.

"I thought you might say that." He smirked, amused by her haughty air. "I suppose the rumors are true."

She felt her temper rising at yet another insinuation that he knew the least little thing about her. She heard the daring in his voice, and Elena was never one to turn down a challenge, especially from the likes of a Salvatore.

Oh yes, she had heard about the Salvatore's. When she was younger and she was up a little later than she was supposed to be, and lingering in places where she ought not be lingering, she overheard her father and other members of the founding council talking about Giuseppe Salvatore and his two boys; Stefan and Damon.

How Giuseppe looked down on everyone because of his considerable wealth, and manipulated people to do his bidding. How Stefan and Damon were exact, pompous replicas of their father. That they believed they could have anything they desired. Well Elena wasn't about to let this Salvatore have the better of her.

"Lead the way," she said, with a sweep of her hand. She silently relished the brief look of shock that overtook his features and against her better judgment Elena followed the elder Salvatore brother as he sauntered towards the back of the mansion.

There were many people bustling around, working, but nobody seemed to pay them any mind. You aren't the first girl he's tried this on, Elena reminded herself.

She walked a little faster to catch up with his long strides.

"Who are all these people?" she asked once they were walking side by side.

"My father's minions." he answered, the disdain leaking into his voice. She was getting the feeling that he wasn't on very good terms with his father.

"Do you not get on with your father?" she asked, not thinking before she spoke as per usual. It was the number once source of trouble in her life.

His eyes widened and she started to take it back. "I'm sorry, it is not my business. I just -"

"No, it's fine." he interrupted. "I was just surprised that you picked up on it already. You are perceptive,"

She shrugged; others had described her as nosy and interfering.

He paused, seeming to decide how to word something.

"I am a disappointment to my father." he said finally.

"I - I'm sure that's not true," she mumbled, not sure what else to say.

"It is," he replied, solemnly. For some reason, although she barely knew this man, she hated that sadness in his eyes.

"But enough about my father. I promised you a tour, did I not?"

She can't help smiling. "You did."

They walked through a forest out the back and soon came to a clearing. A small body of water, that was too beautiful to be called a pond, lay before them. Elena was mesmerized by the sparkling blue water, it reminded her of Damon's eyes...

Damon sat down in the grass and patted the ground beside him. She looked at him in shock. Did he really expect her to sit on the ground, how utterly undignified. Seeing her hesitation Damon rolled his eyes and pulled off his brown, cotton jacket and laid it on the ground beside him.

"Don't worry; your dress won't get dirty."

She was about to tell him that her dress wasn't what she was worried about, but she decided against it. Today seemed to be about new experiences and taking chances, so she sat down next to him. They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few minutes until she spoke.

"This is very peaceful,"

"I know; it's my getaway. In my opinion; really the only part of the estate worth seeing. Unless you would prefer to continue on our way."

"No, I like it here, too."

He lay down on the grass, his head resting on his entwined hands. To their mutual surprise she copied his movements so they were lying side by side.

"I don't even remember the last time I just laid outside and looked at the clouds. I am deemed too old for such frivolous activities now. Do you know what it is like to have every single minute of your day scheduled?" She wasn't sure why she was talking to him about this, but something told her she could trust him.

"Sadly, I do. You don't know how many times I have wished that I could just leave this God forsaken town." She was taken a little aback by his language, but she recovered quickly.

"Why don't you then?"

"I can't let my brother alone with my father. He's seventeen; too young to be leaving any time soon."

She wanted to ask what was so bad about his father, but decided against it; deeming it too personal. But again, before she could stop herself an equally personal question was tumbling out of her mouth.

"Alone? What about your mother?"

"She died when I was 17." Her heart constricted at the sadness she could feel practically radiating from him.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pried. " She leaned up on her elbows to look over at him.

"It's alright; I like to talk about her. My father and Stefan can't bear it."

She rolled over on her side. "Would you tell me about her?"

"She was beautiful, and strong, and opinionated. She would do anything for her family. She was a staunch supporter of women's rights; a cause she carried on to her deathbed."

"She sounds amazing." Elena confessed sincerely.

"She was," he replied, a faraway look in his eyes.

Elena glanced down at her watch and was surprised to find that they had been gone for over twenty minutes.

"I must be going! If my father comes back to the carriage and I'm not there he will be furious."

Damon sat up and watched with amused eyes as she jumped up and began sweeping the nonexistent dirt from her dress.

"It was very nice talking to you, Elena Gilbert. I do hope we meet again someday."

Elena was surprised to find that she, as well, had enjoyed Damon's company. What had started out as a way to prove a point had turned into the cultivation of, dare she say it, a friendship.

"Goodbye, Damon." With that she ran, with the skirt of dress hiked up, in a very undignified manner, all the way back to the carriage.

She had just settled into her seat when she saw her father and the driver converging from behind the house.

"Hello," she greeted, hoping she didn't sound too out of breath.

He just grunted in reply, the meeting with Mr. Salvatore didn't appear to have improved his spirits any.

As they were making their way down the long driveway towards the road, Elena noticed Damon waving at her with a sly grin fixed on his face; he knew she couldn't wave back. Jonathan spotted Damon waving his arms like a madman and frowned.

"What is that child doing?" Elena didn't think he looked very much like a child; he must be at least in his early 20's. He squinted his eyes and the recognition dawned. "Damon Salvatore," He said that name as if Damon were scum on the bottom of his shoe.

"Well that certainly explains a lot. Just look at the way he is carrying on, he must be mentally retarded."

"I don't think he looks retarded." Elena said, in a weak attempt to defend her new friend.

He continued on as if she hadn't spoken.

"What a disgrace. It is a wonder that his father did not disown him after what he did." He must have forgotten that it was Elena sitting next to him, or he certainly would not be speaking of a fellow founding council head's son in this way. "Deserting the army, why that's damn near traitorous."

Elena gasped and he seemed to remember himself, apologizing for his language, but she didn't even hear him.

Is this what Damon was talking about when he said he was a disappointment to his father? How could a man make a commitment to his country and then just back out? She stopped that line of thought right there, it was not fair of her to pass judgment when she didn't have the full story.

If she ever saw Damon again she could ask him about it. Maybe he would confide in her again.

She didn't want her father's cynicism to cloud her judgment of Damon, because she found that even though she had only known him for the briefest of time, she liked him. There was something so _different _about him, and it was refreshing. She found herself repeating in her mind the last words he said to her.

_I do hope we meet again someday._

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><p><strong>This is a one shot because I really, really shouldn't be starting another story right now<strong>_,_** but I suppose if enough people like it I may have no choice but to continue..haha  
><strong>


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